I didn't even think about the rating for this book until the story took a bit wobbly turn towards the end and I immediately dropped a star from then four star rating in my head. Well, that wobbly turn and the speshul snowflake neon signs the author dragged out.

Other than that, I feel like I should've read this in school and get to write a proper essay on analysing all the things and comparing it to my own teen years which came a little after the 91-92 when this is set. And of course comparing this book to the brilliant My Mad Fat Diary (show since I've not read the book), but I'm sure others have done it already. Better than I could.

I've been told that the film adaptation is good too, but I'm not sure yet if I want to watch it.

Although everything could be explained with his grief over George's death—you know what I mean—it still felt too much like the author didn't really want to change the narrators. Like she hadn't really wanted to tell the story from Shaun's point of view but wished she'd could have kept using George's voice. Shaun was a rounded character in the first book, his own man with certain questionable attachments and characteristics, but here he felt like a shadow of George. And not just because he was grieving.

Of course the end twist explains why all this is, but you know what, I'd rather have skipped right to it, instead of suffer through an inferior installment. Shaun deserves better.

I didn't check the characterisation fail box on my shelf-list, but it was a close thing.

Narrators were good, so good in fact, that I had to double check the names to make sure they weren't the same people as in book one.

The only thing that's keeping me from giving this book full five stars is the set-up's similarity to Hushed (which I loved): Two boys and one girl. All broken in one way or another trying to figure out how to move on from one day to the next.

I liked it, but I can't quite explain why.